The War of Sarcomere
by Makori
Summary: A crime ring is spreading to other planets, a prison breakout is being planned and a civil war on one planet may bring the downfall of others. And how does an eighteen year old prisoner fit into this? Rated for swearing and violence in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Starfox: The War of Sarcomere**

Chapter 1

Corneria. Fourth planet in the Lylat System, and most famous. General Pepper has been in office as Governor for about twelve years, and during that time, the planet has prospered. But not everyone. The deepest, darkest secret of Corneria isn't actually on Corneria. But it most definantly is part of it. Over on the far side of Katina, near the military outpost in Sector Z, is a small planet. In the Lylat System, it's called Sarcomere. To its residents, it's called Hell. There is only one city; or, at least, there's only one area that can be called a city. Its proper name is Sarcomere HQ, but it's more commonly called 'Grunge Flats.' The city would be a place of great crime if the city, and for that matter the planet, wasn't what it was; a prison. An enormous prison, and Grunge Flats was Maximum Security, as well as just about everything else needed. The planet is covered by work colonies, outposts, and repair posts, known as 'Reverse Chop Shops.'

The warden was a nasty as hell old bastard of a soldier, a Grizzly bear named Colonel Hollister. General Pepper had put Hollister on Sarcomere when Grunge Flats had been established approximately five years ago. After gaining permission from Katina, General Pepper had established the city as his first means of cleaning up crime in Corneria after the first war. The prisons had been filled up and crime was still rapidly spreading. Now, however, most of the prisons sat in piles of rubble, not only because of the Aparoid attack, but also because there was simply no longer any need for them. People had seen what happened when you were sent to Sarcomere, and crime had definantly been dealt with.

Two years ago, after the second war with Venom ended, General Pepper had started hiring the Star Fox team to start cleaning up gangs and criminals. After they busted one of the most powerful mafia families in Capitol City, crime on Corneria had slowly dwindled down to a bare nothing. Back then, it wasn't so unusual if a bomb blew up on the streets. Now, it was odd to see someone rob a store. General Pepper still didn't hesitate to drop the hammer on someone, though. If a person was busted for a crime, they got the long haul.

There was only one prison left on Corneria now, a place called Fort Webb. Before Sarcomere, it had been the one place that made people sleep at night, knowing that the criminals were locked up, being broken down every day. Now that Sarcomere was in play, however, Fort Webb was only the prison for small scale offenses.

But, our story begins, and will end, in this living Hell called Grunge Flats. On a clear day that on any other planet would seem pretty. Everything was going as normal as normal in a prison should be, with few fights and only one attempted escape. As a silver Cornerian transportation ship cleared the atmosphere, the pilot turned on the depressurizer, adjusting to the gradually thickening air. Two guards sat in the hold, playing poker for ammunition. There were only two prisoners, a young beagle and a middle-aged mustang. Both were manacled to the back of the holding cell by electrically charged chains. Ten-thousand volts of electricity ran along the bars separating the holding cell from the rest of the hold, in case someone had the guts to try for an escape. Neither horse nor dog made a move, however. Both were smarter than that. They weren't allowed to talk, but they had been holding a muttered conversation for the last half-hour to pass the time. The beagle, named Hank Evans, was only about sixteen, but he wasn't afraid of the guards. The horse, Byron Silver, thirty-four, wasn't afraid either. He'd been in Fort Asten, and when his escape had fallen through, he'd calmly listened to the life sentence to Sarcomere, and he could tell the kid had guts.

"So, what're you in for?" asked Hank, coolly.

"Grand-theft auto," replied Silver, just as casually. "Organized a string of vehicle robberies that were supposed to all happen at the same time. I would've ended up with a bunch of hover-cars, a few boats, and some fighters. Unfortunately, one of my boys squealed on me. Before I left, I made sure that he won't be doing any squealing anymore, if you know what I mean."

Hank nodded slightly, knowing exactly what Silver meant. If ever a crime deal went sour, the boss almost always wanted to make sure that the persons who spoiled it always paid.

"So what about you kid? You look hardly old enough for juvenile hall."

Hank gave a dry smile and said "I was involved with the Blanco family. About half a year before they were busted, I was busted for bank robbery. Two weeks later, I escaped Fort Webb and made it back to Don Blanco's mansion just before Star Fox and practically half the police force came down on us. They identified me and sentenced me to this."

Silver grinned and said "Never would've thought you were involved with Blanco."

Suddenly, a voice from the cabin came in from over the loudspeaker.

"We've just entered Sarcomere's atmosphere. Hold onto something, we'll be landing in about ten minutes."

Hank stood up and stretched his limbs, chains rattling and humming at the same time. Both guards saw this and went for their guns, but Hank sat back down before they cleared leather. The two guards looked at each other, then at Hank, who stared back at them, icily, before slowly holstering their pistols. As the familiar bumps and jolts of landing shuddered through the hold, the guards both grabbed safety handles to keep themselves from falling over, while Hank and Silver had to depend on their own balance to keep from falling over.

As the landing finished, one of the guards said "Aw, man! Last time, one of them fell into the bars!"

Hank's eyebrows shot up at this, and the other guard said "Well, we could always push one of them into the bars and pretend it was an accident."

"Naw, I just don't feel like it."

"Suit yourself," said the second guard, pulling a keycard, sliding it through the lock, then placing one hand on one of the hand scanners, while the other guard did the same.

With a hiss, the door to the holding area slowly slid down into the floor, as the guards pulled their guns. One of them picked up a Blaster rifle, while the other, pistol at the ready, crept over to Hank and Silver, unlocked their bindings, and placed new manacles on them. These manacles were remote unlock, so a guard was able to put a prisoner in a cell, have him stick his arms out through the bars, and unlock them from a distance. As Hank's hands were manacled behind his back, he wondered if they'd put muzzles on them. They lucked out, and were led through the side door. The desert of Sarcomere was a most unwelcoming sight, that as well as about a half-dozen guards standing there, Blaster rifles drawn and pointing at him and Silver. They were lined up, flanking style, three on each side, and the ones standing at the end of the walk, the guards of a four-wheeled vehicle obviously intended for transporting prisoners, had machine guns. Hank squinted through the sand that was hitting him in the face and swore he could barely see the outline of Grunge City. With a few pokes, the guards behind them pushed them along down the walkway. Every guard had his rifle aiming straight at their heads, three rifles for Hank, three for Silver, and the machine gun guys, of which there were three, obviously didn't care where their slugs went, for they seemed to be aiming at nothing in particular. As Hank and Silver came up to the vehicle, they were checked for drugs, weapons, or other items they weren't supposed to have. Hank rolled his eyes at this. As if they hadn't been checked at Fort Webb before they left. Finally, the search was completed, and horse and beagle were shoved into the back by a Doberman pincher with a smirk on his face, who shut the doors behind them. They could hear the three guards get into the cab, which had four seats, and tell the driver to get moving. The vehicle lurched forward, and began to pick up speed until it was steadily moving away from the airfield, towards Grunge Flats. Towards Hell.

"How many?"

The question could have been an innocent one. How many pieces of bread left in the cupboard? How many marbles in the jar? How many times do I have to tell you to clean your room? This one, however, was not.

"How many prisoners have died this month?" the question was repeated.

Hollister sighed, and a deep growl came from his throat, disguised by the sigh. He was getting annoyed with this. It was bad enough that he had to deal with the prisoners and their bodies in the first place, now he had to deal with this.

Hollister looked up into the virtual face of General Pepper, and replied, calmly, "Twenty-seven. Most of them from attempted breakouts. Some of them were shot, some were electrocuted on the fences, and some just didn't make it out in the desert. There was one incident where an inmate hung himself, but that's about it."

General Pepper sighed, obviously tired from long working hours. The old hound always did try to give 110 percent, and advised his employees to do so as well. Hollister, however, was not an employee.

"Colonel, need I remind you that although these are convicts and they aren't worth anything, we have a liability? Some of these convicts are only in for a shorter sentence than others."

Hollister nodded, as though acknowledging, while in the back of his head, he was pissed off.

_What the hell are you thinking, you dumb old flea-bag! I already know that, since you've told it to me about a thousand times! If you're not smart enough to know how these worthless, good for nothing bastards REALLY die, then I can't see how you became General! That should be MY position!_

In reality, though, he just said "Of, course General. I don't really know why these convicts think they can run for it and make it very far. I mean, the only airfield on the planet is guarded 24/7, and in the prison's history, no one has managed to get off of the planet."

The General nodded as well, saying "Make sure it stays that way. Oh, and one more thing Colonel," Hollister had been about to turn off the transmitting device and cursed under his breath. He should be done with these annoyances by now! What did-

"There should be two especially dangerous criminals coming in sometime soon. I'm transmitting the data to you now. I want them both put in maximum security."

Hollister nodded, and the link was disconnected. Hollister leaned back in his chair as the information began printing onto his computer screen. At first he was puzzled. He could understand the horse, but why the pup? A moment later he learned why. The pup had been a weapons expert and bank robber for the Blanco Family. No wonder he had to be locked away.

Hollister was about to learn more, when the door to his office slid open and one of his personal elite guards stepped in, saying "Sir, there's two prisoners that have just arrived from Fort Webb. They're waiting outside, sir."

Hollister smiled, revealing his pointed teeth. Fresh meat.

Hank and Silver were pushed roughly from the vehicle, which had stopped on a street. They were in Grunge Flats, and yet, they weren't. They were actually standing in the shadow of one of the large gates that led past the walls topped with electric wires, past the searchlights glaring and swooping around, and into the city itself.

A voice in a speaker in the wall by the gate crackled to life and said "Identify yourself."

There were at least a dozen cameras pointing down at them, but this was undoubtedly for security. One of the guards, a huge Saint Bernard, walked up to the speaker, and pressed a button next a microphone that was sticking out. He quickly said his name, rank, serial number, and the password, then stepped back, holstering his gun. The other guards followed suit as the huge gate opened with a hiss, revealing. As the clouds of steam released oxygen rolled away, Silver's eyes widened, and Hank took an involuntary step back into a German Shepard, who kicked him forward again. Standing in front of them were at least twenty guards dressed in green uniforms instead of the customary Cornerian blue. They were all armed with machine guns and didn't look afraid to use them. Just as Hank and Silver had processed these thoughts, another figure, larger than the others, stepped forward, out of the shadows of the tall buildings of the city. The line of men parted briefly to allow the larger figure to pass, then closed ranks as the bear stepped out into the light. He was…very intimidating, to say the least. To say the most, if looks could kill, Hank and Silver would've died about six times by now. The smirk on the bear's lips also wasn't very comforting. Just as Hank thought that this mute was menacing enough, the bear spoke, and it chilled him to the end of his nerves.

"Welcome to Sarcomere, or as convict scumbags like you call it, Hell. I am Colonel Hollister."

Hank had a feeling that they'd just met the devil himself.

General Pepper groaned as he sat back in his chair. His back had been giving him some trouble lately, and he knew that although he should go to a doctor, he had this battle to fight for himself, and General Pepper always won. Looking down at his arm where, just two years before, Aparoid skin had covered it. Well, maybe he lost _sometimes_, but he almost always won. Sighing again, he rubbed his eyes. As soon as his vacation came, the first thing he would do was sleep in for at least six hours. But for now, he was tough, old General Pepper, never backing down. He'd created an image for himself, and now he needed to live up to it. Suddenly, the intercom on his desk crackled to life, and the voice of his secretary, Katt Monroe, came through.

"General, the Star Fox team is here. Should I send them in, or do you want to wait?"

Pepper frowned, then looked up at his clock. It was still fifteen minutes to noon, the time he'd requested the Star Fox team to come to his office. That was Fox, always early.

Smiling slightly, he responded, "Go ahead Katt."

Now it was time to straighten up. Pepper rose, brushing down his uniform, putting his aching back ramrod straight, stuffing a few stray papers from his desk into a random drawer. Picking up his cap, he put it on over his head, making sure it was tight and straight.

There was a knock on his door, and he sat down, saying "Enter."

The door opened, and the entire Star Fox team walked in. As in, the ENTIRE Star Fox team. Star Wolf had signed over to Star Fox, and after a few meetings, lie detectors tests, and some just plain tantrums, Fox had reluctantly let Wolf and his team join. However, now that their ranks had swelled with these new recruits, their team was that much more effective. Their fighter squad was unstoppable, and their coordination on the ground left the enemy dead in their tracks before they could take thirty steps. Wolf had helped out in the downfall of Don Blanco, and it was an overwhelming victory. As the team lined up, Fox and Wolf on point, the others came in behind them. Krystal next to Fox, Panther kicked away from her by Falco, Slippy scooting quickly away from Leon, and Peppy over by the door.

General Pepper waited until they were all facing him, then said "Star Fox, I have a new assignment for you. And don't worry; it pays quite as well as the Blanco job."

Excitement and smiles flew around the room as the team of mercenaries remembered the amount that they were paid to bring Don Blanco down. They all became serious as Pepper spoke again.

"We have heard rumors of an organization that is based somewhere near the prison planet Sarcomere. Undoubtedly, this organization is there without permission. They call themselves, the Interplanetary Mineral Exploration Company, or IMEC for short, but I know the truth. They're just a band of gun-toting cowboys looking to cause trouble. Unfortunately, that's what they're finding, because we've been getting reports of an increase in violence and gang activity from other planets' capitol cities. However, we don't have the circumstantial evidence required to prove that IMEC is behind these increases in criminal activity. However, we do have somewhat of a point. All the planets with an increase in criminal activity surround the general area of Sarcomere and the planet that they are rumored to be on, a place called Territorias, the divided planet."

The air of excitement quickly slipped away as the team remembered one crucial thing; Territorias was currently in the middle of a civil war that had been going on for about ten years now. Pepper spoke again before any of them could think any further.

"This crime rings has been going on for about six months now, and already it has spread to other planets. Coincidence?"

The team frowned. It had been six months since they'd busted Don Blanco for his criminal activities. Peppy spoke up then.

"I think not. Undoubtedly, when the owners of IMEC heard that we were being hired to clean up crime, they started planning for the downfall of the Blanco family."

"My thoughts exactly," remarked Pepper, pulling two folders from a desk drawer and putting them onto the desktop.

Fox took one, Wolf took the other. "In the folder you're holding, Fox, you'll find the most recent information about IMEC and the planets that have become 'be-ganged' so to speak."

Fox frowned at one of the planets, which wasn't really a planet at all.

"Sector Y?" he questioned, looking up with confusion in his eyes.

"That will be explained in the folder that Wolf is holding. It holds information on what is supposedly happening on the planets and the suspected masterminds of IMEC."

Wolf looked up from his folder, which Panther and Leon were trying to read over his shoulder. "It's true. Several unmarked freighters have been spotted going through Sector Y. The perfect smuggling zone. Undoubtedly this is the work of Numbers."

"Who?" asked Krystal, instantly curious.

"Andrew 'Numbers' Thompson," Wolf began to explain, reading out of the folder. "The brains of IMEC, he is highly intelligent, unpredictable, and is supposedly involved in smuggling illegal goods for IMEC to and from Katina and Corneria. Where the ships are coming from you can probably guess."

"It doesn't end at smuggling," said Pepper, bringing down a giant computer screen with the click of a button on his desk. "We believe that IMEC is involved with the war on Territorias. They are influencing both sides, trying to make one destroy the other, or both destroyone another. However, we are not sure which one they are supporting."

Several images flicked past of unmarked freighters making deliveries to different cities on both sides. The two sides were the Republic of Territorias, which had ruled the planet for a most of its life span, and the Confederacy of Territorias, which was attempting to overthrow the Republic.

"We need you to get on this as fast as you can. Now go. Solve this case, and the money will be deposited into your account. Capture the leader alive, and you receive a bonus."

All this was two years ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Starfox: The War of Sarcomere**

Chapter 2

Hank woke up. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes to see the wall of his cell. Two years. Two lousy, miserable years in this Hellhole. He rolled over on his 'bed,' which was little more than a piece of metal sticking from the wall. The only thing he had for comfort was the orange prison suit he wore, bearing the words **INMATE** in big, white letters down the front of his right leg. He sighed, then reached down, into his work boot, and pulled out the only thing the guards or the police hadn't taken from him; a small photograph of an attractive-looking Collie smiling back up at him.

"Lyss…I'm sorry."

The bank robbery he'd been busted for was supposed to have been his last job before he tried to go straight. But, the deal had gone sour. One of the tellers managed to turn on the alarm, and before Hank and his men made it out the front door, the police had the place surrounded. It was only after he'd broken out of prison and was sneaking into the Blanco mansion that he overheard Don Blanco having a conversation with a hit man who'd brutally murdered Alyssa, his girlfriend. He'd run in, knocked over one of the Blanco goons, grabbed his gun, and managed to fill the hit man with plasma, also getting a shot into the Don's gut. That's when the Star Fox team and the police had burst down the front door and swarmed the place, arresting Hank before he could shoot the Don in the head.

Sighing again, Hank slipped the photo back into his boot and stood, stretching. The guards would be here soon to lead him down to the Maximum Security Mess Hall for breakfast with the other Maximum Security prisoners before they were sent to work. Sure enough, there came the sound of laughter from the hall, then the first security door slid down, then a minute later, the second. Two elite guards were standing there, aiming their machineguns at Hank's head. Casually, Hank lifted his hands in a 'Don't shoot' look. This was accepted by the guards, and they let him step into the doorway, which was about eight feet wide, so that if the prisoner in the middle attacked one of the guards, the other could nail him.

However, Hank was smarter than that, and as the two guards prodded him out through the first security door as it slid down, Hank looked around the hallway. Nothing had changed. There were three cameras concentrating on the door to his cell from various parts of the hall, a security elevator, with ten-thousand volts running along the outside of the door, sat at the end of the hall, and another door down the hall led to the Maximum Security Mess Hall. This was the direction that the guards began prodding him in, making sure that one was behind the other, in case Hank spun around and tried to get the first guard's gun. However, they made it to the Mess Hall with no incident. One of the guards opened the door, and Hank walked in, with the guards following him. All the elite guards were there in case they had to sort anything out. Hank descended to the lower level, walking towards the counter.

The guards were all positioned on a balcony above them that ran all the way around the room. Other Maximum Security inmates were coming in, exchanging greetings, talking about recent fights, and sometimes what they missed the most about home. Hank said hi to a few people and walked to the counter. He always had a specific area to go to, one that was managed by an always dirty coyote named Scruffy. Scruffy was the head cook, mechanic, and also oversaw the laundry. He'd been arrested for racing in the streets, then shooting at the police when they tried to arrest him. A lot of inmates respected him because he was funny. Others respected him because he was just a good person. Prison makes you that way after a few years, and Scruffy had already been here for the prison's lifetime, seven years. However, just about all of the inmates respected him for another purpose; he was their ticket out. Because Scruffy was the head cook and mechanic, he was assigned to get meals to Hollister, who always hated whatever he cooked. Sometimes, Scruffy would be assigned to fix a few things in Hollister's office. Scruffy could always use this excuse to listen in on Hollister's conversations, or be where other inmates couldn't go. Therefore, Scruffy was part of the prisoners' resistance, which was headed by none other than Byron Silver himself. Hank had been made second in command.

They were always trying to make different plans on how to escape, and with Scruffy as their informant, they might have pulled it off if it weren't for a few things to factor in; One, the cameras and security doors in Grunge Flats were always on, 24/7; Two, the power station was always guarded by men with machineguns; Three, even if they DID get someone inside the power station, they couldn't do anything because of the constant patrols. However, as he walked up, Scruffy looked up at him, winked, gave him his breakfast, and slipped something into his eggs. Walking to the table where he and Silver sat, he casually dug around in his eggs until he pulled out a scrap of paper. Scrawled on it were only a few words.

_New plan. High chance of success. Talk to Boss. –S_

Hank, crumpling the note, dropped it into his syrup. He would throw it away later, when breakfast was over.

As he sat at the table across from Silver, the horse looked up at him and said "You get it?"

Hank nodded slightly, and Silver looked up at the guards. Most of them were lounging around, smoking and playing cards, or else listening to music. Looking over his shoulder, he quickly reached into his suit and pulled out a piece of paper. Two others were sitting at the table with them, a tiger named Lionel, a communications expert, arrested for assisting in the theft of several fighters, and Kendall, a vulture pilot who had been the one stealing the fighters. Lionel was on Hank's side of the table, and Kendall was on Silver's. They all moved closer to each other, close enough to hide the paper, but not close enough to arouse suspicion. Laying the piece of paper on the table, Silver began outlining the plan.

First, while in the kitchen, Scruffy, who knew just about all the wire routes in Grunge Flats, would disconnect the lines in one of the walls to key areas, such as the elite guards' barracks, Hollister's office, and several other such places. Once that was done, Scruffy would undoubtedly get the call to go fix the assumed problem in the power station. Once he was there, fights would start in all the Mess Halls in Grunge Flats, and all guards would undoubtedly be called to calm the disturbance, or disturbances. Once the guards were out of the way, Scruffy would cut the wires supplying power to the security measures, such as the doors, cameras, fences inside the city, wires on the outer wall, etc. etc. Once that was done, they'd know from an intercom broadcast, since Scruffy had a stolen microphone in his bag that he just needed to jack into the radio wires. Then, the prisoners would swarm the guards, take their guns, and proceed to the armory. Once they had arms and ammunition, they would proceed to take over the city.

It was a brilliant plan, but there was one thing missing.

"How do we know when to start the fights?" asked Hank.

Silver smiled and said "Easy. Scruffy will cut the wires during lunch or dinner, and then tell me on the way out. Word will spread through the city via Telegraph and the fights will start."

Telegraph was their codename for their underground communications system, set up by Lionel. It involved written messages, codes, stolen communicators, discreet signals, and just plain talking. In fact, Lionel was the one who had procured the microphone for Scruffy in the first place. Hank nodded, smiling.

"I gotta hand it to you, Silver. This is really brilliant."

Silver, with a grim set face, said "There's one more part. While all the other prisoners are busy swarming the place, you and me will look for Hollister. We have a score to settle with that bastard."

Hank nodded, remembering. Two years ago, when they first came, Hollister had ordered them both to be brutally whipped and tortured before he tossed them, bleeding from serious wounds, into their cells. Hank rubbed his chest, feeling the spider web of scars there. He knew Silver had them too. Two years he'd had to wait, and now he was going to get his just desserts. He knew they would taste good.

The plan was launched at lunch. It was the first opportunity Scruffy had to cut the wires without any guards spotting him. As soon as he was finished, he quickly discarded the rubber gloves he was wearing, put the steak knife he'd been using back on its hook and waited. Less than ten minutes later, Scruffy had his mechanics' bag and was leaving the kitchen. Silver was eating at a table in the center, sitting with Kendall, Lionel, and Hank, all quiet, all waiting. As Scruffy passed by, he did the most innocent thing in the world; he tripped. However, when he did, he dropped something down by Silver's feet. This action did not go unnoticed by the horse, and he waited until the coyote was gone before he stooped down on the pretense of picking up part of his hot dog, which he'd purposely dropped, and picked up the mysterious object; a piece of paper. Casually taking a bite out of what was left of his hot dog, he glanced at the note. It had three words;

_Telegraph now. –S_

Looking over at Lionel, Silver nodded slightly, and the tiger acknowledged this by getting up and walking over to the bathroom. Once there, he went into a stall, extracted a communicator, turned it on, and typed a text message. Out in the work yard, one of the prisoners, a rat, who was helping a guard with the water for the other prisoners, felt the vibration in his chest pocket. Once the watering was done, the guard was too lazy to take the vehicle back, so he climbed in the back and told the rat to drive it back to the garage. The rat shrugged, got into the cab, and started driving, keeping one hand and an eye on the wheel and the road, and the other hand and eye on the communicator in his hand. Having read his instructions, he deleted the message, then erased the entry from the call log, lest a guard discover it and investigate. Once he was at the garage, the rat parked the vehicle and walked over to the Fleetmaster's office, tossing the keys, on which a piece of tape with writing hung, to a crow, who caught them, quickly taking the tape off and hiding it in his pocket. Once the keys were back in the Fleetmaster's hands, he walked over to a heavily crowded part of the garage, reading the writing as he did so. He quickly walked over to a prisoner who was slouching out, a lizard, and muttered something to him. The lizard's eyes widened briefly, then he nodded slightly. Easing over to two more prisoners, who were preparing to take boxes of food to different Mess Halls, he muttered something as he passed. The other two prisoners, an armadillo and an antelope, froze for a second, then rounded on the lizard and yelled something at him. In response, the lizard smirked and held up his hands in an _I didn't do anything_ gesture, and walked on. This was to put off any suspicions the guards had, and it worked, for the nearest guards looked over briefly, disregarded it as an argument between inmates, and went about their business. The armadillo and the antelope separated, both knowing their instructions. Soon, they would all be free men.

Scruffy had just made it to the power station when a voice boomed over the intercom, telling all guards to go to the Mess Halls to sort out fights that had suddenly occurred. Of course, they'd all happened at different times. First, a fight had started in Mess Hall Number Three, the one the antelope went to, then a fight started in Mess Hall Number Two, the one the armadillo went to, and finally in Mess Hall Number One, the hall that Silver and the others were in. This would make it seem like the fighting had simply carried over from one Mess Hall to the next, instead of arousing suspicion by all being at the same time. As guards rushed out of the power station, Scruffy smiled to himself, and then slipped inside. Time to do what he did best; make all Hell break loose.

And all Hell did break loose, as Silver noted. The guards didn't even notice as the security doors turned off as they ran through them. Scruffy definantly worked fast. The red lights that meant the cameras were on had all gone out. They could proceed when one more factor came into play. And it did, in its own glorious way.

_"Hey! All you sons-of-bitches that call yourselves guards!"_

That's right, Scruffy. Silver slapped himself in the face, but the transmission had the desired effect. Coincidentally, all the guards on the planet were dogs, except for Hollister.

All the guards looked up at the loudspeaker, just as Silver shouted "ATTACK!"

Everyone in Grunge Flats, even those inmates who had not met him, knew that Silver was in charge of this operation, and so, just about every inmate, in every room, in every hallway, upon hearing the beginning of Scruffy's transmission, all turned around and made mincemeat out of the bewildered guards, grabbing guns, pipes, knives, tire irons, whatever could be used as a weapon, and proceeded towards the armory. Silver's mob all followed him, Hank, Lionel, and Kendall out of the Mess Hall. Silver had a machinegun, as well as Lionel, but Kendall had grabbed an even better prize; a sniper rifle. Hank, however, had grabbed the guns that made him famous; two blaster pistols. When he was working for the Blanco Family, Hank was known as the 'Left Hand of the Devil,' even though he carried two pistols. The truth was that he was faster drawing left handed than any of the right-handers who'd gone up against him. When he had to draw for speed, he waited until his opponent cleared leather, then pulled his left hand pistol. Now, however, there was no clearing leather. Hank fired at any guard who got in his way, whether they were armed or not. As all the mobs in the prison made its way towards the armory, the guards tried to stop them, but were powerless against the wave of orange that rolled towards the center of Grunge Flats.

Hollister's office was located three stories above the armory, and even now, Hollister was barricading all entrances. Scrambling back to his office, he triple locked his door, then opened a secret trapdoor and pulled out a custom piece he'd kept in case something like this happened; a sawed-off, automatic shotgun.

Quickly, he loaded it, then whirled around and snarled "Let's see if those bastards can get past THIS!"

The previously mentioned 'bastards,' were already pounding on the door to the armory, and it was slowly falling. Finally, Silver fired a few rounds into the air, yelling for everyone in the immediate vicinity to back off. They did, save for Hank, Lionel, and Kendall. Silver took a few steps back, then lunged out, feet first. The door folded like rice paper, and the mob swarmed in, then stopped. Those outside the door couldn't see what was going one, but the fifty or so inside had frozen and gone deathly silent. The 'armory' was nothing less than a warehouse! Gun racks stretched forty feet to the ceiling, bins of ammunition the size of fighter ships sat in the middle of the room, and above all, there were no guards to stop them. For a moment, no one spoke. No one breathed. Then, the silence shattered.

"GET THEM!" shouted Silver, a fist in the air, and everyone surged forward to grab the weapons.

Hank, grabbing two holsters and as much ammunition as he could, stood on top of an ammo bin, and started shooting out the bolts. Finally, the side of the bin screeched downward, spilling tons of ammunition out into the mob. Everyone was going crazy, shots were being fired in the air, machineguns, blasters, and sniper rifles were loaded with as many metallic sounds as the men could coax out of the weapons, and then…a shot.

But, unlike the hundreds of others being fired, this one had a target. Silver, who had been standing on top of an ammo bin that had tipped over, lurched forward as the plasma slug hit him in the back. The large room suddenly became deathly silent as Silver hit the floor. No one dared breath. Quickly, Lionel leapt forward, and checked Silver's body.

It seemed like an eternity before the tiger looked up and whispered to Hank and Kendall "He's…alive. But he'll die if we don't get him to a doctor."

Hank looked up and saw where the shot must have come from. There was a hole in the ceiling, and the deadly red beam of a sighting laser from the scope of a sniper rifle was drifting through.

In a fury, he pointed and shouted "UP THERE! GET THAT COWARDLY SON OF A BITCH!"

Everyone obeyed, and a thunder of gunfire echoed through the armory, and bullet holes instantly began to pepper the area around the hole. Hank took a few shots, reloaded, then turned to Silver.

Silver was smiling weakly as he said "We did it, huh kid? We freed Grunge Flats."

Hank smiled back grimly and said "You want me to take care of our debts?"

Silver's smile faded and was replaced by a look of seriousness.

"No I don't," he said, then gave a smirk and said "I want that old bastard to owe YOU."

Hank nodded and, with one last nod to Lionel and Kendall, who were preparing to take Silver to a doctor, rushed out to the outside.

Hollister frantically pulled up the communicator and waited anxiously as a link to Corneria Capitol City was established. He almost cried with joy when he saw the face of General Pepper.

"Yes Colonel, what is it? I'm a bit busy right now-"

"SIR! I don't know how, but the convicts have managed to overwhelm us! They've gotten inside the armory and now all of them have guns and ammunition! They've taken out just about all of my men, and are now swarming through Sarcomere HQ!"

"Calm yourself, Colonel!" cried Pepper, astounded by what he was hearing. "Start from the beginning. What happened?"

Hollister never got the chance, however. You see, Scruffy had left a few things online, such as the security camera in Hollister's office. Smirking, he jacked the microphone into a single wire, then said into the microphone "Oh, no you don't 'Colonel.' Sorry, but we're not going to let you off THAT easily."

That's when Scruffy disconnected the communicator. The holographic face of General Pepper disappeared, and Hollister began going crazy. Shots could be heard outside Hollister's office, in the hall of headquarters. Someone was coming for blood.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

General Pepper was bewildered as the connection was broken. Quickly, he tried again, but nothing happened.

All he got was a _"We're sorry. The communicator you have tried to contact is not available. Please try again later, and if you are having difficulties, call our help desk in Corneria at the number-"_

General Pepper quickly turned off the communicator, then sat back in his chair, feeling winded. All the prisoners in Grunge Flats. Was it really true? Was it even possible? It had to be, for he'd never seen Hollister in such a panic before. Quickly, he began to make a transmission link to Great Fox II. IMEC could wait.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Fox sat in the pilothouse of the Great Fox II. Or rather, paced angrily was the more accurate term for it. They had been working on this case for two years, and all they'd gotten was being able to blast down an unmarked freighter. Examination of the freighter showed it was simply a system-common transporter, and the goods that it had been carrying could not have been identified, because during the explosion they had simply become no more. Wolf, Panther, and Leon were out investigating a possible source of information, but Fox didn't have very much hope. They had been working for two years, and now this assignment had nothing. Fox angrily kicked a computer, and all he got for his efforts was a great pain in his big toe. Hopping around on one foot, he started cursing angrily, his back to the giant screen that served as a communicator, map, windshield, and other things.

So, therefore, he did not see General Pepper's face appear on screen until the General said "Language, Fox."

Fox quickly snapped to attention and faced the screen, ignoring his foot. This was a bad time for the General to check on them, and the General probably knew it.

However, he said "Fox, I want you to abandon the IMEC case for now. Urgent matters have come up, and I want you to take care of them instead."

Fox was truly shocked by this, but, instead of questioning the General orders, he simply asked "What sorts of things, General?"

Pepper sighed, then said, grimly "The prisoners on Sarcomere have overpowered the guards. They have already taken Sarcomere HQ, and are preparing to free the rest of the inmates."

Fox practically reeled backwards in shock. Or at least, he did in his head. In reality, he simply took a step backwards, a bewildered expression on his face.

"I am preparing a task force to attempt to take back the city. I want you to start orbiting Sarcomere in case they don't manage it. Put your entire team on full alert. That is all."

The transmission was cut, and Fox leaned against another computer, breathing heavily. Sarcomere? Was it possible to escape from Sarcomere? As he was contemplating these thoughts, the door slid open behind him, and Krystal rushed in. She was obviously upset about something, because her blue tail was swinging back and forth, erratically.

"Fox? What's happened? Are you alright? I felt some distress come from here and I knew you were up here. What's happened?"

Fox stood up straight, collecting his breath. Now was not the time to be asking questions that could not be answered.

"I'm fine Krystal. Just a little shocked by what the General just told me."

Understatement of the century.

"I'm calling the team together. There's something urgent. We need to get to Sarcomere."


End file.
